


Finding the Ghost

by Sebcentric328



Category: Bucky - Fandom, James Buchanan Barnes - Fandom, Marvel, Sebastian Stan - Fandom, The Bourne Legacy (2012)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Multiverse, Oral Sex, Outcome Agent, Physical Abuse, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Pre-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-25
Updated: 2016-10-25
Packaged: 2018-08-24 14:39:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 19,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8375992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sebcentric328/pseuds/Sebcentric328
Summary: Kate is looking for the legendary ghost, The Winter Soldier. When she finds him, its not what she expected. And she never expected her own past to haunt her.





	1. CHAPTER 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story kept telling itself, so I had to break it into chapters at the suggestion of a friend. Good suggestion! There's NINE of them.

CHAPTER 1

Katelyn was a born tracker. Had been her whole life, raised on a farm, hiking in the forests. But she didn’t kill her quarry. She enjoyed the art of finding them, seeing their beauty and then watching them go about their natural life. Finding them was part of the beauty. As was seeing them live. When she graduated from high school and entered college, she was an athlete. Running, swimming and shooting. After graduating college with a degree in psychology, the CIA recruited her. They trained her to have a very precise set of skills. Especially how to blend in while she was tracking. No one would see her, while she would see everything. And how to analyze the situation for best results.

The outcome program handpicked her from the agency. She was a perfect candidate for what they were doing. They enhanced her. Earlier programs had used chemicals for enhancement. They had moved beyond that technology now to biological enhancement at the DNA level. They used a virus to deliver the enhancement. If you survived, the change was permanent. She was enhanced for advanced physical ability, including recovery and healing. She was also enhanced in her cognitive processes. The cognitive enhancement made her especially gifted at reading people’s actions and predicting their response behaviors. She could manipulate situations in this way, make people believe things, persuade them to do things they normally wouldn’t, tell her secrets they wouldn’t normally confess to their priest. She used her tracking skills for the outcome division. To find people. And sometimes to eliminate them. 

One day, another outcome agent tried to kill her. They were shutting down the program. She ran as far and as fast as she could. She had her tracking device removed from her shoulder by a doctor in a small village in Africa and destroyed it. When they branded her an international terrorist, she disappeared even further, like a ghost. She used all her tracking skills to cover her own path. For a long time, she didn’t exist.

After years of not existing, she wanted something more. She changed her identity yet again, returned to the US, doing whatever jobs she needed to survive. Eventually she became what they call a tracker, or a contractor. In her current life, Kate made money by finding people. She didn’t always know what happened to those people after she found them, but that wasn’t her problem. She tried not to take the jobs finding women. Usually those were just rich ex-husbands or lovers who wanted to find those women. And she didn’t kill anymore unless someone was trying to kill her. Although she was more than capable. The outcome program and CIA had trained her very well on how to do that in many different ways.

She’d met a few Shield agents in her travels. Like Steve Rogers. Two months ago, Steve approached her to help him find a ghost. The Winter Soldier, now out in the wild, was no longer controlled by Hydra. Steve was ill equipped to find Bucky, although he’d been looking for close to a year. You had to have been a ghost to find a ghost. Finding one wasn’t just about following the clues, it was about feeling their energy. The Winter Soldier was a legendary ghost. She wondered if she was good enough to find him.

Finding Bucky would be the hardest thing she’d ever had to do. Actually, with him, it wasn’t so much the finding part that would be the most challenging. It would be what to do with him after that. The Winter Soldier was the most dangerous assassin of the past 100 years. If she managed to find him, she’d be lucky to be alive at the end of it. She gave herself only a 10% chance of survival.  
There was also the question of who he was anymore. Had he broken his programming after his last encounter with Steve? Who was he? Bucky? Or was he the assassin? Or both? He’d been manipulated so much over the years, what was his state of mind at this point? Steve assured her Bucky was in there. 

Steve gave her all the information he had, and some back story not in the file. She studied ALL of it for weeks. It piqued her curiosity. Her first decision was to start in New York City. A ghost liked familiar surroundings where they knew the energy and the surroundings. New York was big enough to get lost in the crowd. Kate started in places where a man could work with no ID, where the illegal immigrants were plentiful. Especially those who spoke Russian. Eventually, she landed on the shipping docks. There were some non-union ones where they paid cash at the end of each day. And some which were exclusively Russian speaking. She went to the bars nearby. The Russians loved their vodka. Which led to telling stories. They didn’t know she spoke Russian. She eventually heard a story about a worker who always wore gloves. Always. And he didn’t say much. Russians didn’t trust people who wouldn’t talk shit or joke during the work day. When the storyteller left the bar, she followed him home. Then followed him to work the next day. 

It was a cool November day. She parked herself on the bus stop bench across the street from the entrance gate to the docks. Today was just for observation. She watched everyone come and go, looking like she was just another New Yorker, on her way somewhere. On day three of observation, she saw him. A tallish man, well built, dark hair and scruffy light beard. He blended in except for one thing. The glove. He had one knit glove on his left hand, just barely visible. His jacket was probably one size too big for him and the sleeves hung low. She fixated on those broad shoulders from behind. She’d recognize those again. The way he walked was also distinctive. He walked a bit like a hunter, like a predator. 

The ghost was a living, breathing man. She’d found him. She was shocked that it had been so easy. Now the hard part was to get close to him. And not die. She parked herself on the same bench around the same time every morning. She looked for the shoulders first. Then she would confirm with the glove sighting. He was on the docks on time most days of the week, 5am. He was done by 2pm. She followed him as far as Brooklyn, where she lost him again the first few times. She kept trying, making sure to stay out of sight, or only in his peripheral. Finally, one day, she was able to follow him to his building. Her next step was going to be casing the building. It wouldn’t be today, but over the next ten days or so, she would make herself familiar with it.

He’d left work early one day, since they didn’t have many shipments to load. He moved along with his gaze fixed on the street in front of him until he was close to the building where he had a small apartment. His eyes scanned the area. Looking for those who meant to capture or harm him. He stopped at the corner newsstand to get the best view of the entrance to the building. Nothing out of place. He bought a newspaper and crossed the street to enter. He chose the stairs, which people nowadays used less often. As he rounded a turn, he ran smack into a young woman with pretty green eyes. She was on her way down the stairs, and in a hurry. She ended up smack against his chest and said, “OH!” 

His gut instinct was to react which he did with lightning speed. He had a hold of her upper arms, probably with too tight of a grip. Realizing this, he loosened his grip, steadied her and then placed her back on her feet just to his left and released her. Her face flickered a few emotions on it in quick succession. First fear, then what he thought was recognition and then strangely, calm. All of that registered with him, but after looking her over he decided she wasn’t a threat. She smelled too good to be an agent. And was too pretty. People would remember her too easily.

“I’m sorry. Are you okay?” he asked looking down at her.

“I – I’m okay...” she responded. She consciously avoided rubbing her right arm where his grip had been especially tight. There was going to be a dark bruise there. She knew why, but she couldn’t let him know that. She pretended to be embarrassed. “I’m sorry. I was going too fast.” As she looked up into his eyes, she blushed, a response she couldn’t disguise. She didn’t expect his eyes. She thought they would be dark and sinister. His were such a beautiful steel blue.  
“No problem,” he said quietly and then moved on. Continuing on his way up. He did move like a predator, taking the stairs now two at a time with long strides.

She let her breath out slowly. She hadn’t realized she was holding it. The man she had been tracking so intently had literally run right into her. He wasn’t supposed to be home yet. She wasn’t prepared for such a close encounter. She waited on the stairs listening. Four more flights up and then the door opened. He was on the seventeenth floor. Of course he WAS. Now she just had to find out which apartment. She continued down the stairs and went directly to the rental office. 

She talked to the rental agent, a sweaty, fat balding man in his fifties named Harry. He was happy to entertain her questions and requests. She wanted an apartment on the seventeenth floor because it was her lucky number, so she said. She’d also noticed a handsome, quiet man with longish dark hair on that floor and it would be ‘really amazing’ if she could have an apartment near him if it could at all be arranged, she pleaded. She sat on the corner of her desk twirling her long hair around her fingers and allowing Harry eyeful of her cleavage. He thought she must be talking about Jim. Jim had moved in about 6 months ago. He paid in cash and hardly said anything to anyone. She chatted Harry up until she thought he could offer no more information.

Kate secured a furnished studio apartment two doors down and across the hall from Bucky’s. It meant Bucky would have a good view of her doorway from his peephole if he wanted to look. She also paid in cash, and upfront for the next 6 months. She left the building and started to tick off the items she needed in her head. She went to her own place and pulled out some storage containers. She packed only the basics. She had called another contractor she’d worked with before. She needed a back story to get Bucky’s attention and draw him out. For this part, she needed help. Chris would arrive on Friday. He would serve a very specific purpose in her plan. She didn’t tell him who she was tracking. She didn’t trust anyone but Steve on this.

The next day she ‘moved in’ to the apartment. Using a hand cart and the elevator to move in her meager items. She looked around the apartment and found it was filthy. And dark. She left her storage boxes unopened and immediately went to get cleaning supplies, a couch cover and a zippered mattress cover. A few additional lamps and a supply of extra light bulbs finished her shopping needs for the moment.

Four hours later, the apartment was much cleaner and a lot less skeevy. She put away her own items and sat down. It was almost dinner. She hadn’t eaten all day. She’d better do something about that. She went to the store for more supplies. When she got back, she made a salad with extra chopped chicken and apples. She would need the extra protein and vitamins in her diet in the coming months for muscle repair. 

In her back and forth travels, she didn’t see Bucky. But he was there. And he might be watching.  
…


	2. CHAPTER 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Getting Bucky's attention...

CHAPTER 2

On Friday, Chris arrived and knocked loudly, “Hey girl, open the God damn door!” 

When she opened the door, he kissed her hard on the lips right in the doorway and said, “Fucking finally! That took forever.” She shut the door behind him.

Chris put down his bag. Kate looked at him and said quietly, “Interesting entrance.”

“Hey, you called me. Told me what you needed. I’m giving you the full story.” Alright. Fair enough. This would have to be believable if Bucky was going to act. 

That kiss made her restless though. She looked him up and down, remembering now how attractive he was. “Take off your clothes.”

“Are you serious?” he said, looking surprised but not unwilling.

Kate unbuttoned her shirt, kicked off her shoes and took off her pants. “I don’t know about you, but I could use a release. If we’re going to act like a couple, we might as well have the benefit of one. This is just sex though...”  
Chris noticed how hot she looked in her underwear. Fuck yeah, he thought to himself. He shrugged, peeled off his shirt and moved towards her quickly, kissing her hard again, this time with tongue. They were both young and extremely physically fit. Without emotions, there was no fear or embarrassment in the sex. Kate used all her skills to keep him from coming too soon. Soon enough, they both got where they needed to be. And Kate wasn’t so quiet about getting there. 

Chris stayed in the apartment most of the time. He only left after it was dark and returned sometime after 2am, to appear like he was hitting the bar scene. Which he wasn’t. He was a professional. He was doing his own work while he was out. When he returned, he would pretend to pick a fight with her. Over stupid little things. The yelling would last for an hour or so. Then he’d crash and it would be quiet. Kate would not yell back during these exchanges. She might talk a little louder in order to be heard, but she wouldn’t appear to be confrontational with him. Occasionally, they would knock over chairs and smash cheap plates. In the morning, Kate would leave like she was going to work, then return at a regular time. About half of the time, they would watch TV instead of fighting. 

During that time, she was also watching the hall via a couple of small wireless cameras she’d positioned around the building. She had cut off the power around 3am in the building one night, so she could get these in place. She was right in her assumption that most of the emergency lights in this shithole building didn’t actually work. They were just for show. She was keeping a diary of all Bucky’s movements, dates and times and anything that stood out in his appearance or actions. 

Kate only saw Bucky twice in person during this time. Once on the stairwell again and the other time in the hallway. Both times she ducked her head, looking away or down. Like she was embarrassed. Both times, he watched her from under his baseball hat as she approached. She caught a glimpse of him watching just before she looked away. It told her he was interested in what was happening across the hall from him. It was time to step things up a little.

Three days later, Kate changed tactics. She had a quiet conversation with Chris about how they would move forward. They came up with a safe word where he would stop if she needed him to. But she was ready for this. It would get her closer to interacting with Bucky. She was more and more interested in meeting the ghost. She’d been studying him, reading about his skills, about his youth and military service, about his more recent interactions with Steve. She hoped she was right about his personality. She hoped he remembered his personality. She needed his protective nature to kick in.

Chris left at his usual time, after dark. He returned around 1am. He started with the usual yelling and screaming at her. He was particularly good at cursing. She sat in a chair in the kitchen while he worked himself up to his task. The first time he slapped her, it was a shock, but she held still. She said nothing while Chris continued screaming at her and another slap followed. This time with a little cry from her. She was going to have a black eye tomorrow. Perfect. Chris continued his ranting at her for another twenty minutes and then they went to bed. 

In the early morning, she left the apartment with a hoodie on. The hood up. She waited for the elevator a few minutes, her head down. When it came, the door was just about to shut when a hand stopped it. The doors opened again and Bucky entered the elevator. As he did, she barely tilted her head up for a half a second before looking down at her shoes. It was enough to show him her face. She jammed her hands into her pockets and lifted her shoulders a bit to add to the effect she was hiding something. He stood very tall next to her, at least six foot. He had on his usual jeans, sweatshirt, jacket, gloves and a low baseball cap. At the lobby, he let her out first then followed until they were both out of the building. She stopped a little way down at the bus stop and sat down on the bench. He continued on foot down the street. She hoped this encounter meant he had paying attention. 

Kate and Chris cooled it for a couple days. Then ramped it up again until another pain session about ten days later. This time, there were multiple slaps in a row, with her falling off the chair at the last. Her eye swelled up and her cheek bruised. This time Chris left immediately after and didn’t come back until two days later. Kate didn’t leave the apartment the first day either. On the second day, she left for ‘work’ at her usual time wearing the hoodie again. This time, Bucky was in the lobby, sitting against the wall. His seat on the floor gave him the vantage point he wanted. She walked past him as though she didn’t see him, made a left and went to the bus stop. He didn’t follow. 

When Chris returned on the second day, late at night, he said he thought he saw Bucky outside the building, in the shadows, but he couldn’t be sure. Kate confirmed by this by watching Bucky’s return into the building about twenty minutes later. 

They waited a couple weeks before the next phase. It was going to get much worse for Kate. Chris used a closed fist on her this time and not just on her face. After it ended, Chris silently checked to make sure she was OK. She waived him off. When she got up, it was slowly. Then she put on a jacket and left the apartment. It was 1 am. She was having trouble breathing. It occurred to her she might have a cracked rib. She leaned against the wall on way to the elevators to catch her breath. She didn’t see it but she heard a door open. Not all the way, but like it opened just a little. And then closed again. Dammit. He was almost there but not yet. He was resisting. Or he was trying to remember. She’d have to go further to draw him out.

She came back to the apartment two days later. Wearing the same clothes. Chris had left and hadn’t been back. 

A week later, Chris returned for his final performance. Late at night, pounding on the door until she let him in. He started the screaming almost immediately. He wanted to get this over with. This time, she yelled back. When she gave him the signal she was ready, he began punching her. Blows to her face and body, trying carefully not to inflict any damage to her major organs. Eventually, she was pleading and crying with him to stop. But she never once mentioned the safe word, so he continued. She blacked out finally, which was the goal. She hit the floor in the middle of the kitchen laminate. He really hated what he had to do next. He picked her up by the back of her jeans, opened the door of the apartment and dragged her into the hallway. He dumped her against the wall, face down. He looked down at her for a moment and then went back into the apartment and shut the door. This would be a turning point for her mission. 

She didn’t know how long she was there. But eventually she felt her body moving, but not under her own power. A strong arm picked her up under her arm and shoulder, then she felt a second arm come under her legs, and she was against a strong chest. She saw flashes of the hallway, then a dark apartment that wasn’t hers. He put her down gently on the bed and she passed out again. 

Chris was watching the video feed on the laptop from the apartment. He leaned back in his chair. She was right about the guy. At least he wouldn’t have to hit her anymore. He did what she had hired him to do, but had hated it. She had taken it all like a champ, knowing it would get her closer to her goal. And now she was inside the apartment of her quarry.  
…


	3. CHAPTER 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Getting to know the Ghost...guilt included.  
> (Long chapter. Hey, he's a complicated guy.)

CHAPTER 3

Bucky got a washcloth and a bowl of warm water. He cleaned the blood off her face and ear. He found the cut on her forehead just above her hairline that was bleeding so badly. He stitched it while she was passed out, cleanly and neatly, using the kit he kept in his backpack. It was amazing he had such dexterity in his left hand. He called it his now, but it originally belonged to Hydra. 

Once he’d cleaned her up, he studied her up close. He could vaguely see the clean lines of her face. Some of those were swollen and bruising now. Her eyes were closed so he couldn’t confirm they were as green as he remembered. One of her eyes was swollen so badly, she wouldn’t be able to open it fully for a week.

He put his hands on her ribcage, just under her arms and felt for broken bones. His left hand detected a wiggle and she groaned and winced. Broken. His hands continued moving down her ribcage, and she groaned again – this time more softly. Bruised maybe, or torn cartilage, also on the left. He stopped at the end of her ribcage. If she had any internal injuries, he didn’t want to make them worse with pressure. She definitely had a concussion with as long as she’d been out. He gently turned her onto her right side. At least if she threw up, she wouldn’t drown. It was all he could do for her at the moment. And that frustrated the hell out of him.

He moved to the couch and ran his hands through his hair. He was tired and not sure why he was getting involved. This kind of complication could jeopardize his safety. His head fell back against the couch and he closed his eyes for a minute. The next thing he knew, he was dreaming. On the train with Steve again. He could hear someone crying, but he couldn’t see them. Then the explosion which knocked him out of the train. That woke him up and he sat bolt upright. The dream wasn’t real. But the crying was. It was her.

She was half awake and sobbing, most likely from pain. He came back to the bed and instinctively pushed the hair back from her face. She darted quickly away from his hand, causing more sharp pain and sobs. She was gasping for air.

“It’s okay. I won’t hurt you,” he said gently. He went to get water and Tylenol. When he came back, she had pushed herself up to a sitting position. Tears were streaming down her face and made her vision blurry. He offered her the water and she reached out with her left hand. It landed on his forearm and then ran down to his wrist until hitting the glass. She drank, the water stinging her cut lip and she tasted blood in her mouth. He handed her the Tylenol, which she also took. She sank back down into the pillows. Her un-swollen eye fluttered and then closed. Her eyes were as green as he remembered. In minutes, she was quiet and asleep. 

He wanted to touch her again. Even more, he wanted her to touch him again. He could still feel the way her hand ran down his arm. That feeling shook him to his core. And scared him. He moved back to the couch and lay down. Not finding sleep again very easily.

In the early morning, he got up, took a shower and ate some breakfast. He wasn’t going to work today. He pulled out his backpack and one of the notebooks from it. He started writing down things he was remembering. Like the girls he had dated before the war. He wondered if she had triggered those memories for him.

She was still asleep at 9am. Now on her back, legs sprawled out and the comforter clutched to her chest like she was cold. Bucky kept the apartment fairly cool, mainly so he could be comfortable in long sleeve shirts. He pulled the comforter up and over to cover her better. When he looked back at her, her one good eye was open and fixed on him. She sat up slowly, keeping the comforter around her.

He sat down on the bed next to her and studied her for a moment. “Hi. What’s your name?”

Her voice was hoarse from yelling and crying the night before, “Katelyn.”

“Well Katelyn. You’re kind of a mess. I won’t bother to ask how you’re feeling. I will assume it’s pretty shitty.”

She nodded and clutched the blanket closer to her. 

“Are you cold?” She nodded again. “Are you hungry?” She nodded a third time.

He smiled at her. A disarmingly brilliant smile which she didn’t expect.

“Are you in pain?” She nodded. “Alright. I’ll take care of those things.”

He brought her some more water and Tylenol. He also brought her one of his sweatshirts to add to what she was wearing. Although it was huge on her, it was warm. He had to help her put it on since it caused her a lot of pain to lift her left arm. Then he cooked her some eggs, toast and bacon. She came to the table very slowly while he was cooking. For some reason, he liked seeing her in his sweatshirt. He was hungry again too, so he sat down to eat with her.

“How did I end up here? I mean, your apartment looks kind of like mine. So I’m assuming, I’m still in the same building.”

“You live across the way. I found you unconscious in the hallway.”

“Oh.”

“You know he’s going to kill you. Eventually,” he said flatly.

She didn’t reply. She looked down at her plate, feeling guilty about the magnitude of her lies.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. It’s none of my business,” he offered.

She didn’t reply. She put down her fork and rubbed her thumb on the table along the grain of the wood.

“Please. Keep eating. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

She picked up her fork and continued eating quietly. Finally, she said, “I don’t even know your name.”

“It’s James,” he said. “But my friends call me Bucky. It’s a nickname.”

She smiled while still looking down at the table. He’d used his real name. “Hi Bucky.”

“Hi.” He smiled a half smile too. They finished eating their breakfast.

She moved over to the couch while he cleaned up the dishes. It was a nice view from the couch. She could tell he’d lived alone for a long time. He was efficient and economical in how he lived. She remembered that life from her days of hiding from the outcome program. She suddenly felt a sharp pain in her heart for what she was doing. She leaned back and pulled her legs up onto the couch. Knees up to her chin, arms around them. 

When he turned around, she looked so small. Just her eyes peering over her knees. Her hair falling all around her face. Despite the bruised eye and the cut on her forehead, she looked beautiful. It struck him hard. The Winter Soldier didn’t have these kinds of emotions. He cleared his throat and put down his coffee, leaning against the counter.

“So now what?” He asked. “You’re welcome to stay here until you feel better. But you’re going to need some clothes and things.”

She was concentrating on all the possible scenarios. Processing. She had found him. It was definitely him. She was supposed to call Steve. Let him come and bring Bucky into Shield. But was Bucky ready for that? Or would he fight and run? Would she destroy all of the comfort and safety he had created for himself? Or would he be happier under Shield’s protection? She didn’t know the right path. All she had read told her he’d been used, tortured and forced into submission most of his existence. Or put on an icy shelf until the next mission. Would Shield use him too? Would he be safe there? Steve could be trusted, but Shield wasn’t just Steve Rogers. She didn’t know. She needed more time to figure this out. 

He could tell she was conflicted. Her eyes were moving. Her forehead occasionally scrunching up. He mistook this for fear of going back to her apartment. “If you want to get your things, I’ll go with you. You won’t be alone with him.”

She came back to the present and focused on him again. She nodded. And then got up, pushing her hair back behind her ear. Chris would be gone already. That was part of the plan. He would come back in a few days to check on her. If she was going to reenter the apartment, now was the time to do it. She tried to think if there was anything in the apartment that would give her away. There wasn’t. It was all on her laptop, which was closed and put away.

They left his apartment and walked over to hers. She didn’t have a key, but she tried the door anyway. It wasn’t locked. Chris had thought ahead. Bucky went in first, looking for Chris to make sure there was no danger. She followed behind him slowly. The apartment was a mess. Lots of broken things, blood on the kitchen floor, still sticky and dark red. Her blood. Bucky could see the violence of the night before. When he saw the blood, he stared at it for a moment and then walked back into the hallway. She followed him. He was just outside the door, but he wouldn’t look at her directly. “I’ll wait here.” He was breathing a little heavily, in the midst of his own memories. 

She went back in and packed a bag with clothes and some bathroom items. She worked quickly. She didn’t want to leave him in the hall like that. He would be uncomfortable standing in the open, but she knew he wouldn’t leave her alone here. And she could tell he was having an issue of some kind. She found her purse, her cell and her coat, then left the apartment, closing the door behind her. 

They went back to his place and she put her stuff down. She wasn’t sure what to do with herself. This was his apartment. It was either talk or sit in uncomfortable silence. She wasn’t going anywhere looking like this for a while. It would only be him leaving the apartment in the near future. 

He was sitting at the kitchen table, still breathing a little harder than normal. He wanted to write down the things he was remembering in his notebook, but he wasn’t ready to do that in front of her yet. There were lots of things he wasn’t ready to show anyone, much less her. 

“Ummm, I don’t know how to say this. But thank you. For helping me,” Kate started. “A lot of people in New York would have left me there.”

“Yeah. Especially in Brooklyn.”

“You don’t have to work today?” she asked. She was trying to draw him out of his thoughts. He was far away at the moment. And it scared her. His whole face was cloudy. This was a lot for him. He’d gone from being completely and utterly alone in this world, to someone in his personal space 24x7.

“No.” He was still far away. 

She felt like he needed a little room to breathe. She yawned and sat down on the couch. She really was tired. Last night, all this activity and uncertainty, her body already trying to heal itself. All that was exhausting. She yawned again and leaned against the end of the couch. In a few minutes, she was breathing steadily and deeply, fast asleep.

Bucky sighed in relief. He took out his notebook and started writing furiously. When he was done, he put it away and sat down on the couch, turning on the TV with the volume down. He didn’t want to wake her. He leaned back, stretching his long legs out. The writing had cleared his mind. He relaxed his tight muscles. 

The next thing he knew he woke up hours later. She was asleep on his shoulder. She must have turned over in her sleep. He turned his head to the right and put his nose into her hair. It was soft and fragrant, like he knew it would be. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. This stirred something deep inside him. He gently eased his arm up and over her until he could put it around her. She didn’t wake up but she did snuggle closer into his chest, fitting neatly into the crook of his arm. This felt so good to him. To have close human contact again. It was almost like the drug he’d forgotten he was addicted to. The feeling of it came rushing back to him and quickened his pulse. He knew this wasn’t smart, but he couldn’t stop himself from doing it. He put his cheek against her head and closed his eyes again, bathing in the long-lost sensation of it. 

A half hour later, when she woke up, he pretended to be asleep. She realized she had snuggled herself against him in her sleep. He felt so warm and strong and safe. He had his arm around her. And he smelled so GOOD. A mix of soap and detergent and… MAN. She couldn’t put another label on it. She didn’t want to, but she eased herself out from his arm, trying not to wake him. Once she was free she sat up and turned towards him. She studied him in his sleep, since she dared not do it while he was awake. Despite his rough appearance, he was classically handsome underneath the scruffiness. She already knew he had gorgeous blue eyes. But it wasn’t until now she saw the strong jawline, the dimple in his chin, soft full lips and thick dark, longish hair. He could use a haircut actually. Right now he looked so peaceful. She felt another stab of guilt. 

She got up and went to the bed. She sat down with her back to him. She looked up at the only window in the apartment. It was cloudy today. Which is how she felt in her mind. She wondered if the beating she had taken had messed with her mental enhancement somehow. She couldn’t think clearly. She couldn’t make the precise, accurate decisions that usually came so easily to her. Why? What had changed? It was him. She should have called Steve immediately after finding his apartment building and not bothered trying to get close. That is where she’d fucked up.

Kate wanted a shower. Maybe it would help clear her mind. She took her bag into the bathroom and closed the door quietly, so as not to wake him. When she looked at herself in the mirror, she was horrified. Her eye. And her forehead. Her jawline had a spidery purple shadow to it. Her hair was a loose, unruly mess. She took off her clothes and looked at all the bruising. Her ribs still hurt and if she breathed really deep, she could feel the sharp pain. She got in the shower and let the hot water run over her. It stung her lip and forehead cut, but she didn’t care. The water felt amazing, like a warm blanket. She washed her hair and body until her skin was pink. Afterwards she dried off and got dressed as best she could, although she couldn’t fasten her bra. Her left arm didn’t allow her to move in the way she needed to accomplish the task without searing pain.

When she left the bathroom, there he was again. Jesus these were small apartments. He was making dinner at the stove. Those broad shoulders were facing her. She put her stuff down by the bed, then went to the kitchen. She was dressed in leggings AND yoga pants, a long sleeve shirt and his sweatshirt. Finally, she was warm enough. 

“Can you help me for a minute?”

He turned towards her, “Sure.”

“Um, this is so awkward. I need help fastening my bra. My ribs hurt when I try to reach the hooks.”

“Oh, OK. Well, this is a new one. Just tell me what to do.” He’d taken a few off in his lifetime, but never helped anyone put one ON.

She had the bra mostly on, just not fastened, under her clothes. She put her left arm over her breasts to cover herself just in case, and she used her right hand to pull the back of her shirts up to expose the bra closure. “It’s pretty simple, just pull the two ends together and fasten them as tight as you can using the hooks.”

While she pulled the shirts up in the back for him, she exposed her entire back to him. On her right shoulder, she had a black & grey tattoo. A nautical star. “You have a tattoo,” he said. Before he could stop himself, he ran his hand over the smooth skin of her shoulder. His fingers detected the slight rise of a scar inside the tattoo itself. The tattoo camouflaged it perfectly. A little embarrassed he’d touched her without permission, his hands moved quickly to fasten the bra. 

“Yes. I got it at a time in my life when I needed to find my way. Thank you, for helping me. With the bra,” she said, pulling her clothes back into place. Her cheeks were flushed from the feeling of his hand on her skin. She turned around finally and changed the subject.

“What can I do to help with dinner?”

“You could make the salad,” he offered, noticing her fine figure in the yoga pants. While she was moving around the kitchen, he kept stealing glances. She cut up the tomatoes, onions, mushrooms and lettuce, put them into a bowl. Adding some shredded cheese and croutons. He caught himself not paying enough attention to the chicken. At one point, he had to go past her to the refrigerator and brushed past her, almost bumping her off balance. Instinctively, he put a protective hand on her hip lightly. While he was close, he could tell she smelled amazing. He noticed her swollen eye was looking better. He could see a hint of green already. He stepped back and went around her on the way back to the stove. He had to be careful here. He wanted to touch her, for her to touch him, but she wouldn’t understand his past or the arm. She would be afraid of him. So he reined in his emotions.

They sat down at the table to eat dinner. He asked her about herself. Rather than tell him more lies, she talked about her childhood and teenage years, about her family and their traditions. He seemed to enjoy this, like he was sharing in her memories. He didn’t offer any information about himself, instead kept asking more questions. They laughed about her tomboy travels with her brothers. Which hurt her ribs until she held her left arm to side.

They both cleaned up after dinner. Chatting about awful TV shows. And living in New York City. When they were finished, she yawned again. Her ribs were throbbing, as was her head. More Tylenol was necessary. She was thinking about sleep again.

“I think I need to lay down. I’m so tired already.”

“That’s not surprising. You need to heal. Go ahead and take the bed. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“That’s not fair to you. I can sleep on the couch. I mean, or we can both sleep in the bed. It’s a queen size. There’s room for both of us.” 

“I’m going to watch TV for a little bit. I’ll figure out where to sleep later.”

“Okay.” She hesitated a second. Then reached up with her right arm and hugged him. “Thank you Bucky, for everything,” she said to him mid-hug, mainly into his neck.

The hug caught him off guard. He wasn’t used to this and he was concerned she would feel his metal arm. But it felt so good he didn’t stop her. He hugged her back, pulling her close to him. She finally let him go. She was thrilled he let her do that. She went to the bathroom, brushed her teeth and took off her bra, which thankfully she only needed one hand to accomplish. Then she crawled into his bed.

“Goodnight,” she said softly, just before she basically passed out.

Bucky went to the side of the bed. Her hair was unruly even in her sleep, a long lock trailing down her cheek. He gently pushed it aside. Ah hell, he thought. It was time to let someone in. He didn’t just want it. He needed it. He grabbed one of the pillows, an extra blanket and went to the couch. He was asleep almost immediately. 

He woke up early and went to the docks. He needed some physical activity and thought he would give her some time to herself. 

When she woke up, he was gone. He’d left her a note on the table. ‘Gone to work. I’ll be back.’ She smiled. She had a new plan. She went looking for a pen.  
…


	4. CHAPTER 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky comes to dinner...

CHAPTER 4

Bucky came home and his apartment was empty. His heart sank. Until he saw the note. ‘Come over for dinner. 6pm.’ His smile lit up his whole face. He had enough time to do some laundry and get a shower. 

Bucky knocked on her door just before 6pm. She opened the door with a smile. “Hey! Come in.” He was wearing a collared button down shirt over his long sleeve shirt. It looked freshly ironed. And he smelled freshly showered. 

“Hi.” He was nervous. He hadn’t done anything like this since he left Hydra. If he had before the war, he didn’t remember it. Thankfully, she had righted her apartment and cleaned up the blood. It didn’t look at all like it did yesterday. She was the best part about it. She looked like she was moving better. Even her swollen eye looked halfway open now. It was surprising to him how quickly she was healing.

“Are you feeling better? You look great.”

“HA. That’s not hard to do considering. But yes. I do feel better today,” she answered. Her long hair was up and she was in a pair of jeans and a sweater. She looked like the girl next door except for the fading bruises. Even her lip was almost healed. 

Bucky took a closer look. “Let me see your forehead.” 

She got close and he tilted her head up towards the light. The cut was healing quite well. She would have a faint scar. At some point, he’d need to remove the stitches. While she was close, he thought he could smell lavender and something else. It was distracting as hell.

“Hmmm, healing nicely,” Bucky said. “What smells so good?” 

“Dinner. Lasagna. Salad, garlic bread, wine,” she mistook his question for something else. 

He smiled at her answer, “That wasn’t what I meant. But it smells good too. I don’t think I’ve had lasagna in forever.” He was definitely hungry. It was amazing to have a beautiful woman making him dinner. That was actually a first for him. Or at least that he could remember.

They both ate until they were stupid with food. The wine went too quickly. She didn’t have another bottle, but it didn’t stop them from having a good time. Kate was amazed how open he was being. His guard was only up a little bit. In fact, she thought there were points where he was almost flirting with her. He was quick to smile and kept looking at her with those damn blue eyes and thick lashes. After dinner, they put the dishes into the dishwasher. 

“How did you get a dishwasher?” Bucky asked. “I didn’t think these apartments came with those.”

“It never hurts to flirt with the rental agent. Harry. Which is hilarious, since he has no hair,” she giggled.

“Damn. Not fair. I can’t flirt with him. I totally would if it would get me a dishwasher.”

She laughed. “For what? The 3 plates and 2 cups you own?”

He laughed at that. It was true. He didn’t need a dishwasher. But then neither did she. He pushed some hair out of his face, tucking it behind his ear. She noticed again how long it was getting.

“Hey. Do you need a haircut? I can help with that.”

He ran his hands through it again. It was getting long. He hadn’t had a proper haircut in a long time. He just kept pushing it back or wearing a baseball hat. The thought of her with her hands in his hair made his heart pound a bit. “Yeah. I do. That would be amazing. Where did you learn how to cut hair?”

“Hey, I had brothers. They needed haircuts. And I took a cosmetology class in high school. I thought about being a hairdresser before I decided to go to college.”

“You went to college?”

“Yep.” That’s where she stopped. She didn’t want to get into all that. Or into anything she did after college. Instead she got up and gathered what she needed, scissors, towels, shampoo, comb. She pulled a chair out from the table. “First we need to wash that mop. Take off your top shirt. The collar will be in the way.” 

He did as she asked. She turned on the sink until it was warm. “Lean under the water.” He did. His shoulders were so broad she had a hard time reaching all of his head. He scrunched himself smaller to make it easier for her. She shut off the water and then added the shampoo. The feeling of her hands lathering up the suds in his hair was heavenly. He closed his eyes and breathed in. It smelled like lavender, like her. She rinsed him and added some conditioner, working it all the way through his thick hair. Another rinsing and she was done. She toweled him until he was just damp. He stood up again, using the towel on his damp face and in his ears.

“Oops. Got a little wet, eh? Sit down.” She noticed again how tall he was. 

He sat and she toweled him a little more. Then put a dry towel around his neck and shoulders. She combed through all that thick dark mane of his. The amount of hair on his head was EPIC. 

“How short do you want it?”

“Not super short. I kind of like it on the longer side. Just not this long.”

“OK. I’ll be conservative. I promise.” She went to work and cut off all the dead ends. She took it up to just barely below the collar, then added in some long layers on top. The layers would help lighten it up and keep it off his face. He would still be able to tuck it behind his ear if he wanted. 

He was enjoying this immensely. Her hands in his damp hair, sometimes touching his neck and ears, sometimes resting on his shoulder. She was concentrating on what she was doing and he was watching her. He noticed how lean she was, not skinny, but in good physical shape. He wanted to put his hands on her hips. And her lips looked so soft. This haircut was adding to his dilemma. Dammit, he thought. He’d opened the floodgates now and couldn’t stop these thoughts from coming. 

She thought she was finished. She put some gel in her hands and worked it though, then combed it with the side part he normally wore. She took the towel off his shoulders. She would let it finish drying naturally, as it was almost dry now. It would be easy for him to take care of. “There. It’s done. So much better. You should go look at it. Let me know if there is anything you want me to fix.”

Bucky was staring up at her. He didn’t really hear what she’d just said. He stood up until she had to look up at him. He moved closer and gently put his hand up to her face, stroking along her cheekbone. She looked up at him with those green eyes. He could not resist now. He had to kiss her. She met him halfway, responding to her own urges. His lips touched hers softly at first, then harder as they remembered what to do. Her hands found his chest, then his neck and back into that thick mane. Their kiss was soft, then sensuous and then demanding. They left each other breathless. She stayed in his arms after, basking in each other’s energy. His face was buried in her soft hair, breathing her in, feeling a deep calm. Her face was in his neck. She never wanted to leave that spot.

“I should go home,” he said softly, his lips just above her ear.

“Oh. Is something wrong?”

“No. Everything is great. But if I stay, there is going to be more. We’re not ready for that,” he replied with the sexiest half smile.

“Oh. We’re not?”

He laughed at that. And then kissed her goodnight.

Her head was spinning. Things were getting really FUCKING complicated now. Her heart was pounding. No one had made her feel like this in a long time. In the outcome program, they weren’t allowed to have relationships. Sex yes, relationships no. The last time she’d had this feeling was with her last boyfriend in college. After the program, she didn’t allow herself to get too close to anyone. But this man was irresistible. First because he was a mystery. Now the actual man himself. The living, breathing, warm, sexy, attractive man she wanted to know everything about. 

There was no way in hell she was calling Rogers any time soon.  
…


	5. CHAPTER 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Discovering the arm. And sex. And betrayal. Pretty much sums this chapter...

After that night, it was his place or hers for dinner. Dinner, dishes, kissing, talking, touching. One night she felt like she just had to ask him. They were on the couch, she was nestled into the crook of his arm, her legs across his lap. They were talking quietly.

“Buck, will you tell me why you wear the glove?”

“I’m amazed it’s taken you this long to ask,” he asked dryly, knowing how brazen she could be.

“I was waiting for you to talk about it. But you haven’t said one word. If you’d rather not, that’s OK. Just say so, and I won’t ask again.”

“No, it’s ok. I mean, we have to talk about it at some point.” He sighed and let his head fall back against the back of the couch. He hesitated, trying to figure out how to begin. His voice was nervous. He’d thought of a thousand ways to tell her, none of them coming to him now. “Um. It’s not just my hand. It’s my whole left arm.” He shifted around underneath her, clearly uncomfortable. 

Kate sat forward, taking her legs off his lap. “Please stop. I can tell this makes you uncomfortable.”

“No. I need to tell you. Come back here though.” She sat back and he pulled her in close to him. 

“A long time ago, I was in the military. There was an explosion on one of my missions. I lost my arm in that explosion. I wasn’t conscious. I didn’t feel it. When I woke up, I had a new arm. A prosthetic arm, but kind of, ummm, military grade you could say. There isn’t another like it. And people don’t understand it when they see it. So I hide it.”

He was so solemn in telling the story. She was sure he was leaving out so many painful details. Either to protect her or because he didn’t remember them. He looked at her shyly. She could tell he was afraid of her reaction. She swung her leg over and straddled him, so she could look him directly in the face. She put her hands on either side of his neck, rubbing her thumbs along his jawline.

“Bucky. It’s ok if your arm is different. You’re different. There isn’t another man like you. Not anywhere. And I’m glad about that. I love that. I think… I’m falling for you. I didn’t mean to. But I am,” her voice getting quieter until it was barely a whisper. It was her turn to be afraid now. 

His face said everything, scrunching up with emotion, swallowing hard. His eyes tearing up. “I love you too,” his voice broke while he said it. He was relieved and grateful and amazed at her full acceptance of him. He sat up tall, pulled her in close to him and hugged her fiercely. His arms were around her, hands moving up her back. Then he kissed her hard. She kissed him back with tears of her own coming. He stopped kissing her and pulled away. His right hand brushed some tears from her face. 

He sat back, his hands now moving to his shirt. He took it off quickly, before he lost his courage. After the shirt, he took off the glove. He thought she would look away, but she didn’t. She looked at all of him, every inch. She thought she was prepared to see his arm since she’d read so much about it, but she wasn’t. It was so beautiful, like a work of art, the way the light played off it. It mimicked the musculature of his other arm perfectly. Then she looked at the rest of him. She’d never seen him shirtless either, nor had he allowed her to touch his bare skin before this. Also perfection. She slowly ran her hands up his muscled abs to his chest, over his collarbones to his shoulders and then down his arms. When she touched metal she didn’t treat it differently. It was part of him. It was cool to the touch, but she could tell he had just as much sensation in it as the other. When she leaned down and kissed him on the neck, right at the juncture of where the metal attached to his flesh, the tears really started coming from him. She put her arms around him and held him closely. His arms came around her waist and tightened. Eventually, both were so emotionally spent they went to bed, falling asleep quickly, holding each other.

In the morning, he woke up tucked in behind her with his arm over her. His shirt was still off, his shoes gone. She was in a t-shirt and pjs, her arm holding onto his metal one. She was breathing softly and evenly. He was so glad to touch her with his bare left hand now. He hated the glove. It kept him from feeling her soft skin. He nuzzled her neck and then put his lips on the skin just below her ear. She sighed. His mouth wandered down her neck until she sighed out loud. He half smiled at the sound of it and then introduced his tongue as well. This prompted a soft moan. Another half-smile from him. He stroked back her hair so he could be uninterrupted in his assault on her neck. She moaned again softly and woke up, eyes fluttering open. She turned over onto her back and looked up him with sleepy soft eyes. He could feel himself getting hard. He wanted to touch her so badly. His left hand hesitated though, like he was afraid she had changed her mind.

“It’s okay Bucky,” she encouraged him softly. Finally, she felt his left hand on her hip first, so gently, his thumb stopping to rub there a moment and then up over her perfectly flat stomach. His hand was already under her shirt so it continued north in its explorations until it reached her bare breast. She closed her eyes for a second, sucked in her breath sharply and arched up towards his hand, now on her nipple. She turned towards him and kissed him sensuously on his chest, neck and lips, her hand now running up his upper thigh and over his hardening penis inside his pants. He moaned as his cock became as hard as ever. 

She was fully awake now. Her hands kept touching his bare skin, which was almost giving him goosebumps. She couldn’t get over how warm, hard and soft he was all at the same time. Her hands went to his jeans button and zipper, his pulling her shirt up and off. His eyes went to her breasts which were as perfect as he’d imagined. He made short work of pulling his pants and underwear off now. She did the same. They were entwined again immediately once naked, him now between her legs. Kissing each other like they couldn’t get enough. He could feel how wet she was, his cock ready to enter her, which he did slowly, first just teasing her with the head, then more. He felt her gasp as he filled her so completely. She arched her body up towards him with her hands tightening her grip around his lower back muscles. He moaned so deeply once fully inside her. It had been so long for him.

The first stroke was slow and deep and gave her the full length of him again. They started moving against each other, becoming more and more insistent in their need. His lips left hers and moved down her neck to her collarbone, his tongue and teeth nipping at the skin there. She groaned and pushed harder against him. She braced her feet against the bed and ground her hips against him while he was deep. This excited him immensely and he did the same. The skin above his cock came into full contact with her clit on the down stroke. He brought her to climax so easily. As she came, moaning and writhing underneath him, he felt her tighten around him as her orgasms washed over her and she was almost dripping wet. The sensations tipped him over the edge. He came so hard and so fully, he was shaken by the force of it, groaning from somewhere deep inside. He continued to stroke through, prolonging hers and his climax further. 

Afterwards, he lay on top of her, letting his muscles relax, her arms around his broad shoulders. Both were breathing heavily. Their lips touching softly on each other’s skin occasionally as they calmed. Sleep found them again quickly. 

The second time he woke, they were naked, tangled in the sheets and in each other. He pulled her hair back off her face and neck, kissing her so gently. She woke feeling those soft full lips. She turned towards him and kissed him back, their tongues playfully touching and exploring. Then she turned the tables on him kissing down his neck, then chest, then his hard flat stomach and slowly moving lower. The look of surprise on his face when she licked his balls and then took him in her mouth was epic. Back in the day when he was dating, girls didn’t do that. It wasn’t until France during the war, that he’d experienced oral sex, and then only once that he could remember. Everything she was doing felt so amazing, all his nerve endings were on high alert. His hands were in her hair, his head thrown back and biting his lower lip in the intensity of it. His hips were lightly thrusting up to meet her lips. When she applied the pressure of the flat of her tongue to the underside of his cock, he almost lost it, crying out.

“Oh my GOD!” He stopped and went still, holding her head still as well, willing himself not to come. He didn’t want to come this way and without her. 

He pulled her back up onto his chest, breathing heavily and trying to calm himself. She laughed in the sexiest way at his distress, giving him a few minutes. Then she pulled herself further up until she straddled him. She rubbed her excited wet pussy against his cock, making him moan deeply. She pushed her hips down until he entered her, then sat up tall and started slowly rocking against him. His hands went to her hips and his own hips pushed up to meet hers now more forcefully. He was so primed from the oral sex, it wouldn’t take long for him to get to the point of no return again. He brought his thumb to his mouth, wetting it with his saliva, then started stroking her clit in a lazy circular pattern. Her eyes flew open and her mouth made a perfect O at the increased pleasure. Her hips driving down onto him so deeply and her increasing wetness easing down and around him, he could barely concentrate, but his thumb kept on task. The pressure of it brought her to climax, the world shattering around her as she continued riding him through it. Watching her come so hard above him, he was no longer able to contain himself, groaning and grasping her hips and thrusting hard up into her while coming inside her. Afterwards, he was utterly spent and pulled her to his chest, wrapping his warm arms around her, kissing her head. Sleep found him again. 

She was wide awake though. Once Bucky was sound asleep, she eased out of his embrace and went to take a shower. She felt covered in sweat and cum and sex. When she came out of the bathroom, dressed only in a tshirt and underwear, Chris was sitting at her kitchen table. She nearly jumped out of her skin. He held up a finger to his lips. He motioned for her to come out in the hall with him. She grabbed a pair of jeans, pulled them on and followed him. She pulled the door shut behind her. 

Chris finally turned towards her and said, “What the fuck is going on Kate?”

She just looked at him. She didn’t need to explain anything to him. 

“He’s your job. And now he’s in your bed,” he stated simply.

“And?”

“Did you call your client yet?” he asked.

“None of your business. You got paid for your part of this. What does it matter to you?”

“Kate. You’re a professional. This is not how you run a mission.”

“Look, things have changed and I’m not ready to call the client. If and when I am, then I will.”

“But you’re okay, right? You gave me the impression this man was extremely dangerous. That’s why I came back to check on you again. It’s been almost a month and I haven’t heard from you.”

“First of all, I wasn’t aware I needed to check in with you. Second, he was dangerous. He is. But he won’t hurt me. I’m certain of that. I’m ok Chris. I promise.”

He studied her face for a minute closely, then gave in. She was a capable, well trained agent. “OK. If you need anything, you know how to get a hold of me.” Chris held up the key he had for her apartment and she took it.

“Thank you. I appreciate it.” She did have a warm spot for him for even giving a shit whether she was ok. She gave him a hug and he left.  
…  
Chris waited a full week before he called Steve Rogers. He’d been back and forth with this, but saw an opportunity. The man in Kate’s bed was clearly James Buchanan Barnes, also known as The Winter Soldier. Steve Rogers had been searching for his friend Bucky for more than a year. Chris had seen Bucky’s metal arm while he was sleeping and Kate was in the shower. He’d been startled by it, since The Winter Soldier was stuff of spy legend and a very dangerous assassin. Kate was clearly not objective in this situation and wasn’t going to pull the trigger on calling Steve anytime soon. Chris made the decision to call Rogers and collect the commission himself. He’d also become aware of another commission, a much older outstanding one. This was the one that had delayed his decision the most. He could kill two birds with one stone. He just happened to know one of the little birds.  
…


	6. CHAPTER 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The past rushes up to meet Kate, engulfing her, consuming her...
> 
> Get ready folks. This story is about to take a hard LEFT.

CHAPTER 6

The Shield agents moved in within hours. They found Bucky in his apartment, making dinner and waiting for Kate to come over after work. They came in such numbers; he wasn’t able to run. He fought, but was overwhelmed. He also stopped in his tracks when Steve Rogers appeared in his apartment. Bucky froze. He knew this man of course. He’d recognized him in their last encounter. Bucky had saved Steve’s life, dragging him out of the water and onto the shore.

Kate was in her apartment, when she heard the Shield agents break down Bucky’s door. She went to the closet and found her gun, which she tucked into her waistband. A few minutes passed and Shield was pounding on her door next, led by Steve Rogers. Of course, she let them in. There was nowhere to run and too many agents. 

“Kate.”

“Rogers.”

“You found him. Congratulations.”

“I did. But I didn’t call you. Why are you here?”

“Chris called us. He was concerned about you.”

She laughed. So there it was. Chris had figured out who Bucky was and stolen her commission. “Chris is an idiot. Bucky is perfectly safe to be around. But I assume he wanted the commission?”

“He did. He also wanted another one.”

“Another? What do you mean another?”

Steve’s face was serious. “The one for you, Kate. I need you to come with us.”

“What do you mean, come with you?” she was confused. This isn’t how this worked. She didn’t understand and suddenly felt threatened. She backed up a few steps. 

“Kate. You can’t run. This isn’t negotiable.” He came towards her. He had a pair of handcuffs in his hand.

She held up her hand, “Wait. Wait a minute!”

“C’mon Kate. You know we have to take you in,” Steve said. “You’re on a terrorist watch list. You’re wanted in Iran.”

“No. NO! You don’t understand. This is a mistake,” Kate was almost in tears. Her past had come rushing up to engulf her from behind, like a dark ominous cloud. She’d never seen it coming. She been too distracted by Bucky. Steve grabbed her wrist and put the handcuffs on. He found her gun and took it from her. He handed her off to another Shield agent who dragged her out of the apartment and past Bucky’s open door. As she passed, she caught a glimpse of him, on his knees and also in handcuffs, although his were military grade to contain his arm. He looked up at her, his hair hanging down. His eyes were dark and there was a snarl on his face. In this moment, he was the Winter Soldier. There were four Shield agents surrounding him. They led her down the elevator and then outside into the waiting SUV.  
…

The drive was about 4 hours to the Shield facility. Kate was silent, her face now dry of the tears that had come, but her eyes still red. She assumed she would be dead soon. Her past, all of it, would be found out. She would never see him again. That was the part that really hurt. She’d never get to explain herself. She couldn’t help noting the irony of it. She had gone looking for a ghost and it was her who was discovered. 

When they arrived at the facility, she was put into an interrogation room. A metal table and chairs, a tile floor, stainless steel walls, fluorescent lights. She was handcuffed to the table. Her head was down on top of her arms. She had been there a while. Maybe an hour. Could be more. She didn’t have her watch anymore. They had taken it along with anything else she had on her person. 

The door opened. Steve entered and sat down. 

“Kate. I need to know who you are. Really.”

“My name is Katelyn Somerton.”

“And who is Sarah Pike?” Steve asked quietly. He looked her directly in the eyes. His face was an open book. He looked like he already knew who she was. Sarah Pike was the name she was using when the outcome program had framed her for an act of terrorism. They said she’d tracked down an Iranian government official, killed him and his whole family, then bombed the embassy residence compound to cover the evidence.

“You look like you already know. You’ve already decided who I am.” She sat up a little taller, her face clouding over. 

Steve shook his head. “I thought you were a tracker. I didn’t expect a terrorist. Did you have a plan to use Bucky?” There it was. Now she knew what the problem was. He was afraid for Bucky.

“Use him for what?”

“To activate him again. Use the trigger words. Make him a killer.” Steve asked tersely.

“Bucky’s not a killer. He was. But he’s not anymore,” she defended him. 

“But you are,” he said harshly.

“Fuck you Rogers. What do you know about me? Nothing.” Now she was getting angry. It was OK for Steve to protect his friend. It was not OK for him to make assumptions about her based on a lie. “I’m not a terrorist. That’s all you need to know.”

He sat back in his chair. He was taking stock of her. She kept looking back at him. She wasn’t a terrorist. But she was afraid they would find out about her outcome program background. If they did, she was dead, that was a 100% certainty. If they didn’t, she’d still be branded a terrorist and deported to Iran. She liked those odds of survival better. She had a 25% chance of escape or survival in a third world country.

Steve shook his head and left. He didn’t have anything more to say to her. 

Natasha and Tony were watching from the observation room. Tony was chewing on the end of a toothpick. Natasha turned away from the mirror towards Tony. He was thoughtful.

“I like her. Sassy. But she’s not a terrorist. Rogers is missing something. Talk to her over the next couple days. And dig up anything you can on her past. Use all those spooky skills of yours,” Tony said, as he waved his fingers at her, emphasizing the word spooky.

Natasha smiled. “You like catching Steve in a fuck up.”

Tony smiled that charming grin of his, “Yeah, I do. I really do.”  
…

Bucky was pacing, his long legs craving some physical activity. He had been confined to his room since his arrival. He was angry the way they had taken him from his apartment. Like a trapped animal. Although his room here was four times the size of his whole apartment. Steve and the others visited him, mostly Steve. He wrote in his notebook a lot. Sometimes a woman came to talk to him about his past. She was definitely a psychologist. But he was glad to talk to her. It was almost a relief. Until Kate came along, he didn’t realize he needed other people in his life, that he was lonely. He thought he was doing what he had to do to survive. 

He was also confused about Kate. He knew Shield had taken her into custody and he didn’t know why. She had nothing to do with his past. And he didn’t know what had happened to her, which bothered him even more. No one would talk to him about it either. Shield was treating him with kid gloves, trying not to wake The Winter Soldier. 

Steve arrived. “Hey man, how you doing?”

“I’m ok. I could use some exercise,” Bucky replied.

“We can arrange that. There’s lots of benefits to living in Tony’s world.”

“Steve, where’s Kate? No one will tell me anything. What happened to her? She hasn’t done anything wrong.”

Steve hesitated. His face was conflicted. 

“C’mon man. You’re supposed to be my friend,” Bucky was almost pleading. 

Steve couldn’t say no to that. “Bucky. It’s not good. I don’t think you really want to know.”

“I do! I need to know. I’m not going to freak out.”

Steve hesitated again. He didn’t want to hurt his friend. And this wasn’t going to be good. 

“Steve, please.” Bucky insisted.

“She’s not innocent. And she’s not what you think. She’s a spy Buck. A terrorist. She killed innocent people in Iran, a whole family including the women and children, maybe more than that. There is hard evidence. We don’t know who she works for. She was lying to you. Trying to use you somehow. Use the Winter Soldier again. We’re working through the process, but she’s probably going to be deported to Iran to stand trial.” Steve rushed through it. 

Bucky’s face scrunched up. Tears sprung to his eyes. “NO. That’s not true!” He got up suddenly and walked to the window, rubbing his face, then running his hand through his hair. “That’s NOT her Steve. She might have lied about her past, but that’s NOT who she is.” 

“I wish it wasn’t true, but I think it is,” Steve said quietly. 

“When?” Bucky asked. “When will she be deported?”

“Five, maybe six days.”

“I need to see her,” Bucky turned back to his friend.

“I’ll see what I can do.”  
…

Kate was in her cell. Knees pulled up to her chest, arms wrapped around them. A guard came and unlocked the door. “You’re up prisoner. You’re being summoned to the interrogation room.” She knew the drill. She stood up while he put the cuffs and leg chains on her. Then he followed her down the hall to the steel room, as she thought of it now.

Natasha Romanov was waiting for her at the table. She sat down and the guard attached her cuffs to the metal loop on the table. Kate was impressed. The Black Widow was here to interrogate her. She was another legendary ghost, now an Avenger. 

“Hi Katelyn. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Hello Miss Romanov. It’s a pleasure to meet The Black Widow in person.”

Nat smiled. “Please, call me Natasha.” 

Kate was leery. As she should be. This woman was skilled and deadly.

“We’re all family here. So when Tony asked me to talk to you, of course I said I would. He thinks Rogers is wrong about you. And he loves proving Cap wrong. So here I am.”

“I hate to disappoint you, but there’s nothing to talk about. I have a past, like everyone else. You of all people should know how that works. But I’m not a terrorist.”

“Ok. You’re not a terrorist. How did you end up on the watch list? Where did the evidence come from? Tell me what I don’t know.”

“I can’t tell you.” Kate said quietly. 

“Why not? Give us the backstory to prove it wrong. You clearly know who framed you.”

“If I tell you, then I’m dead. End of story.” Kate said, looking down at her hands. 

“You’re telling me all of Shield and half of the Avengers can’t protect one person from their past?”

“Yes, that’s what I’m telling you. My odds are better in Iran.” 

“Huh.” Natasha wasn’t all that surprised. There were factors in her own past she felt the same about. Nat wondered if they had a lot more in common than first glance. “Kate. I want to help you. Bucky says you’re a good person. All you have to do is tell us who you are, if you’re not a terrorist.”

Kate winced a little at the mention of Bucky’s name. Natasha noticed. 

“I-I can’t,” sounding flustered.

“I understand,” Natasha said.  
…

On her way back to her cell, the guard was a little enthusiastic with keeping control of her leg chains. This one in particular she knew to be a sexist, arrogant asshole from her interactions with him. As they came to a slight down ramp, he tripped her up and she fell against the railing on the wall. She threw her arms forward to try to break her fall but missed the actual railing. A sharp edge on the railing fixture sliced into her arm. The cut was about 3 inches long on the middle of her forearm and deep. It started dripping blood immediately and she sucked in her breath sharply as the pain seared through the nerves there. She immediately covered it with her other hand and sleeve, trying to stop the bleeding. 

The guard laughed and yanked on her leg chains again. “Get up girl. A terrorist, huh? You can’t even walk straight and you’re supposed to be a terrorist?”

She got up gingerly, trying to balance herself while still holding the cut closed. She stood up straight, then continued walking towards her cell. When she was inside her cell, he took off her leg chains and handcuffs, still with a smirk on his face. When he was done, he stood up and looked her right in the face, smirking and laughing. Something in her snapped. She punched him right in the balls with a closed fist, then brought her knee up under his chin as he was falling to his knees in pain. His balls were searing in pain, but her knee rattled his teeth even harder. He felt a tooth in the back of his mouth crack as they came together sharply. The pain exploded throughout his jaw. She smirked in satisfaction as she stepped calmly over him. He didn’t know whether to hold his balls or his jaw at this point. She grabbed him at the back of his collar and gun strap. She dragged him into the aisle way outside, then walked back in and shut the cell door. She stood there watching him squirming as several guards ran to his aide. Then she went to the sink in her cell and cleaned the cut, drying it and stemming the bleeding with paper towels. She never saw that guard again. 

The next time she saw Natasha, Nat asked her about the cut. “Accident. I fell.” Kate replied. 

“I heard.” Nat looked at her with an admiring smirk of her own.

The next day, Natasha saw her again. This time she noticed the cut was healing quickly. This set off a red flag warning. She left the room for a few minutes and came back with a young woman carrying a metal tray. Kate readied herself for whatever was coming. The young woman merely took several vials of blood from Kate’s arm. 

“That’s all for now.” And Natasha left. 

Outside the room, Natasha handed the vials of blood to Tony. “Give this to Jarvis. See if there is anything different about it.” 

Tony looked at her oddly, but took the vials. “What do you mean, different? It’s just blood.”

“Is it? Tell Jarvis to look deep. Like DNA deep.” And Natasha turned on her heel and went back to her room. She had some research to do.   
…

On the final day before she was due to leave for Iran, she went to the metal room again. Natasha was there, but not alone. This time Bucky was with her. Kate stopped in her tracks just inside the door. Bucky turned towards her and caught the terrified look on her face. Natasha was sitting at the table where she could watch both of them. Kate looked like a deer in the headlights as the guard pushed her forward and locked her handcuffs to the table as per usual. Her short sleeves revealed the cut on her forearm, now almost healed but leaving a long pink scar. Bucky noticed it right away, but had bigger questions on his mind first. 

Kate looked down as he came to the table. Her breathing got heavier and her heart started racing. 

“Kate. Katelyn look at me,” he said.

She did as he asked. Her green eyes met his blue. And the pain became obvious on her face. Bucky reached out and took her hands in his. Tears sprung to her eyes immediately when he touched her. “You have to tell them about your past. You can’t let them deport you. You’ll be tried for terrorism and probably executed. Please don’t do this.”

“Bucky, I can’t,” she whispered.

“You can. It’s very simple. You’re not a terrorist. I know that. Just tell Nat what happened. Shield will protect you.”

“No. They can’t.”

“I can. I’ll protect you,” he insisted quietly.

“N-No Bucky, you can’t. Please, I can’t explain. But I didn’t kill those people. I d-didn’t!” she was quickly losing it. She put her head down on her arms and started sobbing. Natasha wished she’d played this card sooner. Bucky was clearly her Achilles heel. 

Bucky came around the table to her side and put his arms around her, which only made her sob harder. He stroked her hair and back. She couldn’t stop and was gasping for air. Her heart was breaking. She would never see him again. She could never explain herself.

“Bucky, why don’t you give her a minute?” Nat suggested. 

He didn’t understand why, but he did it anyway. He gave Nat a funny look as he went to the far wall of the room. Nat rolled her eyes. Jesus. Bucky had managed to get a girl, but he still knew nothing about women. Which was still a step ahead of Rogers. 

It took a while, but Kate calmed down enough to catch her breath. Natasha took the opportunity to use Bucky against her. “This is your last chance. If you don’t tell us, you leave for Iran tomorrow. You’ll lose the protection of Shield and possibly your life. Don’t you want to live? Spend more time with Bucky?”

Kate forced herself to calm down. She focused on Natasha. She couldn’t look at Bucky and keep her mind straight. “I don’t have a choice Natasha. I have only one option.”

Bucky’s hand smashed into the steel wall, leaving a fist shaped dent. Kate almost jumped out of her skin. 

She continued focusing on Nat. She didn’t speak though.

Nat motioned for the guard. He unlocked Kate’s cuffs from the table and she stood up to leave. She hesitated, then turned to him. This might her last chance to ever speak to him. “I’m sorry Bucky. I didn’t get a chance to explain myself to you. But I-I didn’t lie about falling in love with you.” 

He wouldn’t even look at her. She had her answer then. And nothing mattered anymore for Kate.   
…

The following day, Kate was led to the plane which would take her to Iran. She looked tired and almost beaten. She was heartbroken to her very bones.

Bucky was watching from the building, his hands against the glass. Natasha and Steve were also watching, but giving him some room. 

“I can’t believe it. Bucky falls in love, but then she’s a spy and gets deported for terrorism. You can’t even get a date. You guys suck at this,” Natasha couldn’t help but notice the irony of the situation.

Bucky turned away as the plane taxied away and walked past them. Tears were streaming down his face and his broken heart apparent.  
…


	7. CHAPTER 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kate faces her accusers...

CHAPTER 7

14 hours later she landed in Tehran. The Shield agent handed her off to the Iranian officials who came to collect her. They loaded her into a military-like truck and drove off at a high rate of speed through the city and then into the desert. It was a bumpy road, the dust and sand creeping into the interior and making her cough. No one offered her water. In fact, none of them would even look at her. This didn’t surprise her. She was a woman in a very man-centric culture. As a woman in this country, you were one of three things - a family member, a wife or a whore. 

They arrived at a compound outside of Tehran, maybe 2 or 3 hours outside of the city. There was only the compound, some tents and the road. That was it. Inside the walls of the compound, there were several houses, a well, some utilitarian buildings and a tower. She could see the shadow of a large caliber gun inside the tower, as well as armed men. There were several armed guards inside the courtyard as well. They led her inside one of the houses and into a dark, mainly empty room with a stone floor. There was a narrow single bed and two buckets. One empty and one full of clean water. She sat down on the bed and leaned back against the wall. There was only a limited amount of light which entered the room though a high and narrow horizontal window that was maybe 6 inches tall and 3 feet long. No escape there. Now that she was here, she wasn’t sure of her 25% survival odds anymore. Until she met the players, she wouldn’t know for sure. Honestly, even if she escaped the compound, it was surrounded by desert. She would die of dehydration before reaching the city.

Today was Friday. No one came. On Saturday, only one person came. A woman clothed from head to toe brought her a tray of food and a roll of toilet paper. The food was basic but edible – meat, vegetables and a slice of bread. The woman stared at her for a moment. Like she’d never seen another human like Kate, which was possible. She re-locked the door after leaving. At least Kate had met Player 1. On Sunday, Monday and Tuesday, the same woman brought her food once a day and also emptied one bucket and filled the other with fresh water. The rest of the time Kate sat, she paced, she stretched, she slept, she ran in place. She started marking the days off on the wall with tic marks. She tried her hardest not to think of Bucky. Which she failed at miserably on a daily and nightly basis.

On Wednesday, she met Players 2 and 3. Two men arrived, one in his fifties, the other maybe in his late forties, also accompanied by the same woman who brought her food. Neither man looked very forgiving. The older man spoke English with a heavy accent. The second man grabbed her by the arm, tied her hands together and forced her to her knees in front of the older man. 

The older man looked her over through narrowed eyes, his disdain for her clearly visible. “YOU? You are the person they claim murdered my son? You’re just a woman. A typical disgusting American woman by the looks of you.” He paced back and forth, spitting on her at one point. She felt compassion for him. He’d lost his son and grandchildren. “This is Amir. He is my brother. He will find out if you did this. And who you’re working for.” 

She didn’t doubt this. Amir looked like a miserable man. And a very capable one. He was tall and lean, but very strong. Like that flexible branch on the tree which would hold a surprising amount of weight. He also looked like he was going to enjoy his work. Kate was afraid but she didn’t show it. The older gentleman left, but Amir and the woman stayed. Kate remained on her knees as Amir spoke in Persian. The woman translated for her into English.

“It will be my honor to help my brother. You will tell me about the murder of his son. His only son and his whole family. You will tell me who you work for. If you tell me quickly, I will kill you quickly. If you don’t tell me, I will torture you slowly and eventually kill you most painfully. If I happen to kill you by accident, it will be of no importance. There will be so many ways of torture, you and I will never be bored.”

Amir sneered at her. She looked at him so openly and fiercely. He hated that. He could tell she was willful and defiant. Women like that in his country were punished until they were obedient. Or dead. There was no room in his culture for such women. He was going to enjoy breaking her. Seeing the boldness leave her eyes would please him. After that he would also enjoy killing her, although it would be no challenge. He would cause her as much physical pain as she caused his brother emotionally.

He took out a small knife, the blade only three inches long but wide and serrated. Amir knelt down in front of her. He ran the blade along her cheekbone then down her neck, pausing over the skin where her jugular vein lay. Kate swallowed, and held her breath instinctively. This man was going to be the real Player. He was the one she had to survive. When the knife blade moved down to her chest, he moved it away. In one swift move, he plunged the knife into her mid-thigh near the femoral nerve but careful not to hit the artery lying close beneath it. He left the knife there while she screamed. When she stopped screaming, a little too soon for his liking, he removed the knife slowly to further tear at the nerve and resume her screams. He laughed while she held her hand over the wound and tried to breathe normally. This was their introduction. 

Every day thereafter, Amir came to visit her once a day, but at all different times, no method to his madness. The woman always came with him. Sometimes he need her to communicate with her and sometimes, he had no need to communicate with Kate at all, except via the pain. She tried to fight back at first, but this only made it worse for her. If she fought he tied her hands together at the wrist, leaving the rope there for days until her wrists were raw. Amir thoroughly enjoyed himself and was very skilled at this. Almost every day it was different. He choked her, beat her, cut her, stabbed her, used waterboarding, actual drowning, a crude form of electric shock. He always asked the same question which she came to understand in Persian. Every day she replied to him, “I didn’t kill your family.” One day, she actually replied to him in perfectly accented Persian since she had an ear for language. This infuriated him and caused him to slap her until she lost consciousness. 

Amir particularly enjoyed cutting off her air supply. He liked to be behind her, with his left hand over her mouth and nose tightly, while his right hand pressed her skull forward into it. One day he went back to his favorite technique. He liked feeling her fear and especially her hot tears running down her cheeks and over his hand. This time he kept the pressure on until her vision grew dark and she passed out. In the moments before passing out, she had a vision. She knew on some level it was created by her subconscious, but she was so grateful for it. 

In her vision, there was a tall muscular man, dressed all in black, walking towards her through the sand, his strides almost predator-like in their movement. Longish dark hair falling in his eyes, a large rifle in his right hand and the strong desert sun reflecting off a perfectly sculpted metal arm. When she slumped into unconsciousness, Amir let her fall to the floor. Her involuntary reflexes took over and her lungs gasped for air. She woke up alone on the stone floor, her head pounding. She had a dim memory of a vision of Bucky. The tears came fast and furious now, making wet streaks down her dirty face. She wondered how long she would keep her sanity here.   
…


	8. CHAPTER 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The truth comes out. Now what?

CHAPTER 8

Tony came into the common room looking for Natasha, barefoot and at a dead run. He looked overly stimulated. Natasha, Clint, Sam and Steve were sitting around the large wood table playing cards and now staring at him. Bucky was on the couch near the windows, but looked up from his notebook scribbling at Tony’s dramatic entrance.

“Jesus Tony. You really need to switch to decaf man,” Sam said with a smirk.

“OUTCOME! Outcome agent! She’s an outcome agent! Do you know how long I’ve been trying to get my hands on this technology?! Jarvis found the DNA marker this morning.” Tony spat out. “And Rogers was WRONG. See? SEE! Not fucking perfect. I told you he wasn’t fucking perfect!” Tony pointed an accusing finger at Steve. 

Natasha put her cards down with a frown. “Shit.”

“Who or what is an outcome agent?” Sam asked.

“What are you talking about Tony?” Steve demanded.

“Kate is. Or was. An outcome agent. But why would she be scared to tell us that?”

“What are you talking about? I heard Kate. I heard outcome agent. Do you have news about her?” Bucky had silently leaped over the back of the couch and joined them. You could see the anxiety in his eyes. 

Natasha looked at Clint. He started. “Kate wasn’t a terrorist; she was an outcome agent. She wouldn’t want to tell anyone about that. The outcome programs were all shut down. All the agents were hunted down and eliminated. Or at least that was the rumor. We also heard some of them escaped into the wild, ghosting themselves, which was difficult since they had tracking devices implanted in them. It would make sense they framed her for terrorism. That would illicit an international level manhunt, rather than just the program enforcers looking for her.”

Steve was silent. So was Tony. 

“What? Somebody better fucking say something quick. What the FUCK is an outcome program?” Bucky demanded.

“It was a subgroup of the CIA, even spookier if that’s possible, with a lot of science behind it. The agents volunteered for the program. They were enhanced physically and mentally, in different ways, depending on what they were good at. In the beginning, they delivered these enhancements chemically, but the program evolved. In its last phase, the one Kate would have probably been in, they used a nasty virus to deliver enhancements directly into their DNA. If they lived through the experience, they were basically superior agents. I knew the program ended, but I didn’t know why or how.” Tony finished.

“Why would she be afraid to tell us?” Sam questioned. “It doesn’t make any sense if these programs no longer exist.”

“These kinds of programs never really go away. If there are loose ends, there will always be someone to enforce them. If Shield reported having an outcome agent in custody to any other agency, someone would have shown up to eliminate her. They would have been a guard, or a janitor or anyone really, but all with the right clearances and complete access. She would have had no way to escape from her cell, nowhere to run,” Natasha explained. “She was right. Her odds of survival were better in Iran.”

Bucky’s hands were gripping the back of Natasha’s chair. His heart was in acute pain now, like someone was squeezing it. And he was getting angry. “How do you know she’s an outcome agent?”

“A hunch. The terrorism thing seemed like bullshit. I hate when Steve jumps to conclusions. Natasha noticed Kate was healing quickly from the cut on her arm, which tipped her off. We got a blood sample. It took Jarvis a while to confirm it. The DNA enhancements were very subtle,” Tony said.

“We LET her go to Iran? And you guys fucking knew this was a possibility?!” Bucky was seething.

“Buck,” Steve interrupted. “It’s my fault. I believed the evidence. I thought she was trying to use you. After she found you, she was supposed to call me so I could bring you in. She didn’t. It all seemed to fit into the terrorism angle. Tony and Nat didn’t have proof otherwise.”

“She could be dead already! If she’s not, how do we find her? And what the FUCK are we going to do about it?” Bucky roared.

“We go to Iran. We find her. Dead or alive. We need to get a move on though,” Clint said. “Leave in the morning?”

“I’ve already got some feelers out. I was trying to keep an eye on her. There’s been no trial though. At least not a public one. She landed in Tehran, and then disappeared. If there has been no public trial, she might have been delivered to the family of the victims. That’s not uncommon,” Nat said.

Bucky stalked off. Steve followed.

Bucky couldn’t contain himself very long and barely got to his room before he broke down. He was bedside, his face buried in a pillow, screaming and sobbing when Steve arrived. “Bucky. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry!”  
Bucky swiped at the lamp on the table next to the bed, smashing it to the floor. He punched the headboard and threw a chair through the tall glass windows. Steve caught up with him and grabbed him around his chest. Bucky was still sobbing and didn’t want to fight Steve. He gave in to his grief and slumped into Steve’s hug. He was just now getting used to being hugged again. He thought about the first one she gave him. It had broken the floodgates.   
“We’re going to find her Bucky,” Steve promised.   
…

In the morning, Tony met them in the hanger. They were packing their equipment. 

“Remember guys. No one sees you. No international incidents or disasters. Don’t kill a fuckwad of natives. You need to be like ghosts. Undetected.”

Bucky stopped on his way past Tony, his hands full of guns and ammunition, and just glared at him.

“Ok John Bender. Take it down a notch. I just mean be careful and try not to damage too much of the country, alright? We’re talking about a rescue mission for one person.”

They took a stealth Quinjet to Iran, setting up a temporary base in the desert out outside of Tehran. It was Clint, Nat, Sam, Steve and Bucky. Sam deployed drones to start searching the remote areas around Tehran under the cover of darkness. The drones were equipped with night vision and infrared cameras. Clint and Natasha got in touch with their contacts in the area, looking for stories about an American woman with honey blonde hair and green eyes. There wouldn’t be many of those in Iran. In fact, there might only be one.  
…


	9. CHAPTER 9 - FINAL

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coming back from the brink...some avenging in there too.

CHAPTER 9

Kate was healing from her daily injuries, but not as fast as she normally would. Without enough protein in her diet, the enhancement would be slowed. In fact, Kate believed her mental enhancement was also suffering. Sometimes she couldn’t remember if she’d marked the wall that day or not. The lack of calories was having an effect in other areas too. She had lost at least 20 pounds and muscle tone. She probably couldn’t fight now if she wanted to. She wondered how long she was going to last here. She was still alive, but for how long? It was in the nighttime she missed him the most. She allowed herself to cry only then. And she sobbed like never before. Probably like she would ever again.  
…

Clint and Nat showed up at the base camp with possible location information on Kate. They had heard about a compound in the desert owned by the family whose members were killed during Kate’s supposed terrorist attack. They both thought this was a good place to start. Sam started flying his drones in that area at night. It only took one day for him to locate the compound. And then the drones deployed some cameras along the compound wall. They each took turns watching the activities in the buildings. There were less than 20 people living inside the compound. One in particular stood out. This person never left their room. Never. He or she clearly existed in that room only. Other people visited that room maybe twice a day. Once a day, they could see the person was being tortured. The person was slight, just north of 100 pounds, but they couldn’t tell if it was a man or woman. 

“We have to go in. Even if it’s not her, that person is suffering,” Clint said. They all agreed. They needed a day to develop a plan based on the movements of the guards. 

Bucky in particular had a hard time watching the surveillance. If it was her, she’d was being horribly tortured. If it wasn’t her, they would have to start their search over.

They planned to go that night. Bucky and Steve would be on foot. Clint and Sam on the walls to take out threats. Natasha would be in the jet, monitoring movements via infrared. They would get in and get out, incapacitating anyone in their way, using deadly force only if threatened.

As they were getting ready to go, Amir was walking towards his appointment with Kate. He couldn’t sleep tonight and this would be a nice distraction. He didn’t even bring the young woman with him to translate. He didn’t need Kate to understand anything tonight. He only needed her to suffer. He entered the room, and threw on the dim light above her. Kate blinked her eyes, trying to focus. This could only mean one thing. Amir was back and she’d better gather herself. She was so tired though. Almost defeated. He yanked her from the low bed by her tied wrists, then pushed her to the floor on her knees, she fell forward onto her hands. He circled around behind her. She knew what was coming next and began to take long slow deep breaths in preparation. He didn’t mind when she did that. It only prolonged his pleasure. 

He yanked her back upright by the hair. When his hand came over her mouth and nose, she closed her eyes. This was the hard part, the panic and the pain. Her lungs and throat convulsing, trying to draw air where there was none. She waited for the vision of Bucky to come. It had ironically become a part of this ritual which she welcomed. Her lungs were burning and things were getting fuzzy. Still no vision. Her heart sank. He wasn’t coming. She opened her eyes, the tears flowing freely. She felt herself giving in. Giving up. Like a switch had flipped inside her, her will to survive was gone. The darkness came and relieved her of her pain and heartbreak. She slumped back against him but Amir wasn’t ready to let go just yet. He wanted more. He thought this might be a good night to test her will to live. When he did let go, she fell to the hard floor and lay motionless. He waited for the harsh gasps that usually came after. This time there were none. He knelt down, turned her over onto her back and leaned over her. Her lips were bluish and her green eyes partially open. But no breathing. He could barely feel a slow pulse.   
…

Nat warned them before landing there was a Player inside the room now. Someone had come to visit the prisoner. Bucky felt a knot in his stomach and his anxiety to get to that room grew a hundredfold. They silently landed the jet about 30 yards from the compound on the opposite side from the tower. When Clint and Sam were in position, Bucky and Steve went over the wall. They encountered three different armed guards, all of which they took out quickly and quietly. Bucky and Steve moved fast through the house and to the door of the target room. Bucky broke the lock with his metal hand and pushed the door open. 

Amir was startled and stepped back from her body as the two men in dark military gear burst into the room. One of them was carrying a large metal shield with a star. Amir had heard of the man who carried this shield. He was an American. Supposedly, a hero. The other man looked like the devil incarnate. 

Amir laughed and said harshly in Persian, “You’re too late. She's dead.” 

Bucky’s gaze was fixated on Kate. It was her, but she wasn’t moving or breathing. Her face was wet with recent tears. He could see the green of her eyes, but they were lifeless. He stood up and looked at Amir with pure unadulterated rage. 

“Bucky! Just take her and GO!” Steve warned. 

Before Steve could stop him, Bucky leaped forward with a snarl. Bucky’s hand shot out with a large black knife in his grip. Amir was fascinated watching it flip through the air. He couldn’t turn away. Mere seconds later Bucky caught the blade handle and lodged it deep in Amir’s neck where several large arteries came together. Amir fell backwards drowning in his own blood. 

Bucky leaned over Kate and picked up her body gently, putting her over his shoulder where he could carry her easiest. She was lighter than she’d been, her hands still tied and he could feel the angular corners of her hips. He was seething with rage and grief. He was angry at himself, at Amir, at Shield, at everyone. Bucky and Steve moved back through the house and compound at a dead run. Clint could see them with Kate’s limp body over Bucky’s shoulder. He gave Sam a heads up. They needed his help getting her over the wall. 

At the base of the wall on the outside of the compound, Steve held her nose and blew into Kate’s lungs four times, trying to get some oxygen back into her. He did some chest compressions to get her blood moving. They needed to get her back to the jet immediately. Bucky lifted her up and handed her to Sam so carefully. 

“I’ve got her Bucky. I promise,” Sam said. He flew off towards the Quinjet. 

Steve, Bucky and Clint sprinted after Sam. They ran up the ramp just in time to see him put her down on the cargo deck. Natasha immediately began CPR and Steve went for the oxygen bottle. Clint prepped the jet for flight and plotted a route to the nearest safe medical facility. Bucky was rooted to the spot gasping for air himself, watching everything happen around him like one of his nightmares. His rifle fell from his hand. He fell on his knees with tears streaming down his face, his heart lying on the floor of the jet struggling for her life. He heard the ramp close behind him and the jet took off towards Dubai.  
…

Kate was alive. They had brought her back from death but just barely by the skin of her teeth. It was amazing what Tony’s money and medical advancements could do. They stabilized her first, then put her into a medically induced coma to reset her body’s functions. They were in Dubai for three days and then transferred to a private facility in upstate New York. It was one of Tony’s research labs. He flew in and medically outfitted an entire wing for her care. He had the best doctors available. No one in Shield knew she had survived. 

Bucky never left her. He was either bedside holding some part of her, talking to her, scribbling in his notebook or fast asleep on the couch by the window. Nat stopped by and handed him a thick file and a huge cup of coffee. It was all Kate’s history with the CIA and some of her outcome program missions. Now it was his turn to read about her. He was fascinated by her training and experiences.

He was so grateful she was alive, but also horrified at her condition. She was at least 25 pounds lighter than she had been a mere 5 weeks ago, which put her around 105 pounds, severely underweight for someone of her height. Her wrists had been rubbed raw on more than one occasion and infected. She had cuts, stab wounds, broken fingers and ribs, and deep bruising in so many places it terrified him. What was worse is he knew what that animal had done to her just by looking at her injuries. This was daily torture. He was certainly she had suffered both mentally and physically.

When the doctors decided to wake her up, Bucky was waiting. Her eyes fluttered open and he could see the green under those long dark lashes. He looked anxious, so much hope written on his face. His face came into focus for her slowly. She could see his blue eyes and epic thick dark hair. She was certain this was another vision. Except it didn’t fade away. And she could breathe. She tried to speak, but her voice felt gravelly.

“Don’t talk yet. You were on a ventilator for a few days. Just nod if you can understand me,” Bucky said. 

She blinked slowly and then nodded a tiny bit. It felt like a lot to her and her eyes closed again for a few seconds. When she opened them, there was more clarity there.

He let his breath out quickly. He didn’t know he’d been holding it in. His smile lit up his face, and he brought her hand to his lips. “Oh thank God!” He could see she was still in there. Tears rolled down his face. Steve put a hand on Bucky’s shoulder and Nat put her arm around Steve’s waist. A big smile on all their faces. Even Nat was teary, which was rare.  
…

She slept for almost 48 hours with short moments of wakefulness. Whenever she woke, he was there. Finally, she opened her eyes and felt more like herself. A beaten, almost broken version of herself but not as fuzzy. Bucky was sitting on the couch, writing in his notebook again. Memories had been coming quickly and in greater quantity lately. He wondered if it was because he felt safe here. 

He looked up to see her stir and open her eyes. She yawned but kept them open. He got up and came to her side. “Hey beautiful.”

“Liar,” she whispered with a half-smile escaping her.

“I’m not. Seeing you awake, alive, mostly intact. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life. You’re never leaving my sight again.”

“Even though I lied to you in the beginning?” she said quietly.

He put his hand on her forehead and pushed her hair back from her face, his thumb rubbing her skin. It felt so familiar to him now to touch her. He couldn’t imagine he hadn’t been touching her his whole life. He looked back into her eyes. “I don’t care about that. Since then, you’ve treated me kindly and with love. That’s what I care about. And you.”

Her eyes welled up and spilled over, falling off her lashes. She took his hand and kissed it. “I’m sorry Bucky. I won’t ever lie to you again. Ask me anything you want.”

He put his other hand over hers and sat down on the stool next to her. “I do have one question.”

He was staring at her hand. Running his thumb over the skin and knuckles. When he looked up at her again, his face was shy and nervous, but a hint of a mischievous smile playing around his lips. 

“Can we visit your parents? I really need to talk to your Dad.”

THE END...for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> This was EXTREMELY fun to imagine and write. The outcome agents in The Bourne movies have always fascinated me. They were almost like superheroes, yes?


End file.
